Don't Get Left Behind
by artsc
Summary: Mark and Roger are still in the loft, Mimi is taking college courses, and Collins is still teaching. Problems arise as Mark copes with Angel's death-and the death of his masterpiece, TODAY 4 U. Roger, on the other hand, is intent on living his life, for real this time. T for some strong language. Roger/Mimi, Joanne/Maureen
1. Chapter 1

Roger looked over his shoulder as put his guitar away. Another attempt at one song, failed. He looked up at the cheap, colored lights that hung from the ceiling. He wanted more than this, more than old posters and leftover stage lights.

He tossed an old gig poster into the fire that kept the loft heated, and watched his name go up in flames. Roger wanted nothing more than a song like the fire, true and eternal. The fire blazed stronger still, mesmerizing Roger. The lights colored the fire red, blue, and green.

"Hey, don't set my scripts on fire!" Mark called as he walked in the door. Roger realized how big the fire was getting. Mark walked over and stared into the flames. He was getting more and more worried about Roger. He seemed different.

"You know, this isn't it. You have so much time ahead of you." Mark tried his best to break Roger's fixed glare at the posters on the wall.

"How do you know? Reason says I should have died already. Four years ago. Who knows how much longer I can hold out." Tears started streaming down Roger's face. "How was filming?"

"Shitty. This narration needs... more." Mark stared down at his camera, then set it on the table. He reached into his bag and dug his new script. It lingered in his fingers before he let it fall into the fire.

Roger smirked at Mark's anger. He knew that Mark had much more time, a whole life, to make something that could last forever. Roger had to make do with what time he had left.

"I need to walk around. See what I can film." Mark walked out the door with a new confidence. He always liked filming everyday life in the East Village. Roger stayed behind, left in the dark. Faint beams of light drifted through the window, landing across the room by the door.

"One song. I'm singing one song, now, before the sun sets." Roger muttered to himself as he looked out the window at the coming night. "Now, before this fucking virus takes the rest of my life."

He grabbed his Fender guitar from its case and strummed some chords. They came out wrong. He kept adjusting his fingers, but nothing was sounding right. He tried some notes, but they grated against his ears.

"Great. This stupid guitar needs tuning. Maybe it's because I haven't played this one in, I don't know, two days?" Roger grumbled under his breath. He started testing each string and right as he began tuning, Mark shuffled in, looking disappointed. His jacket was spotted with rain.

"Tell the folks at home what you're doing." Roger rolled his eyes, remembering Mark's documentary from almost a year ago.

"As you can see, I'm writing one great song." He paused. "Before I..."

"The phone rings!" Mark shouted as their answering machine played out their voices for the caller. After a few seconds, they knew it was Collins.

"Hey, how's NYU?" Mark asked, putting the phone on speaker. Roger grinned,remembering Mark ask the same question about MIT. Then he thought back to how much things changed since that Christmas day. Mimi slipped into his mind and Roger started to blush. Mark sighed and listed to Collins recount his recent teachings of actual reality.

"And then half the class got up and left. They couldn't handle the concept that it's possible for things not to have a reason to happen." Collins concluded his story by telling Mark to toss the key to him. After Mark hung up, he glanced at Roger, who was fumbling over a new song. Roger mumbled a few words while repeatedly strumming the same three chords, trying to decide which lyrics to chose. He grabbed a pen and jotted down his newest creation.

Mark still stood by the phone and felt his tears fill his eyes. Collins was still hurting from Angel's death, and teaching his philosophy was helping him cope. Mark let out a long sigh to try and calm his emotions, but the tears fell.

"Sometimes, there just isn't a reason." Mark said out loud, forgetting that he wasn't alone. Roger walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"But we can't let that stop us from living. I know your films haven't gone well so far. But you'll find your spark." Roger assured, then said more to himself than to Mark, "I know I found mine." He glanced at his watch and and put on his jacket.

"Got a date?" Mark asked, not expecting an immediate response.

"Yep!" Roger replied as his face lit up. "Mimi and I are heading to the Life Café for some wine, maybe some beer, and then I'm gonna show her my newest song." He looked over at his notes on the table, and tucked them in his guitar case before walking out. He left it right outside the door for later. As he turned to shut the door, he said to Mark, "Don't stay inside all day."

Mark rolled his eyes at his roommate, slightly embarrassed to be told the same thing he told Roger just a short time ago.

Mark opened up his camera and took out the film. He put it into his projector and started to watch the neighborhood flicker by on the wall. His recorded voice echoed off the high ceiling, turning into a whisper. He walked over to the window and tossed down the keys to Collins, who was waiting expectantly.

Mark shut the window after making sure that Collins hadn't gotten beaten up again. He watched his film play in the wall. It was only a few minutes long, since the rain forced him back inside. As the film neared its end, Mark's mind wandered to the locked drawer in his room. His one complete work lay in a reel inside, labeled "TODAY 4 U".

Mark had left it there, untouched, for months. Due to its unfinished look and lack of professional equipment, it had been turned down by every television network. Mark tried time and again to get advice, and every time, people would tell him to focus more on Angel. They wanted to see more of Angel's past and present. Because Mark couldn't bring himself to put Angel's death in the documentary, no one knew about it. And it killed him every time he heard people say to get more footage of Angel. Because Mark knew that Angel drove the message, and he had tried many times to get Angel to talk about his past, just him facing the camera with some extra scenes of him, the group, and others with AIDS accompanying his story. But Angel always refused, insisting on letting others have the spotlight.

And Mark held that against her in his mind, as something so kind to others, but so damaging to himself. He knew Angel cared about him like a brother, so why couldn't she put up with a little more camera time?

Mark began to feel the empty apartment seep into him. He stewed on the couch, staring at the phone, and waiting for Collins to come up. He sprinted to the door as soon as there was a knock.

"Hey Mark, you okay? You sounded kind of sick on the phone." Collins asked as he walked through the door.

"Not your usual cheerful comment as you come in? Sounds like you might be sick, too. Want some Captain Crunch?" Mark questioned sarcastically. He poured some cereal into two bowls and searched the fridge for the milk. When he found a carton, he brought it to the table and started pouring out some cereal.

"Um, that milk is empty. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You seem dist-" Collins was cut short as Mark hurled the milk carton across the room.

"Everything has to run out before I'm ready, doesn't it? Why can't I just have some Captain Crunch? This fucking milk is ruining my life!" Mark shouted as he dumped the cereal back into the box.

Collins remained quiet as Mark stared at the box of cereal, debating whether or not to say anything about the outburst. He decided against it and asked how Roger and Mimi were.

"They've been together constantly ever since Christmas. Roger won't let her out of his sight, and he's staying in her apartment more and more." Mark looked down at one of Roger's sweaters on the floor. "I wish we could go back, back to when everybody had somebody. I can't live in the present if it means I'm all alone."

Mark and Collins watched each other, each waiting for the other to speak. When neither did, Collins walked over to the far wall and picked up the milk carton.

"You've got to stop living in the past, and start realizing that things will move on. If you don't keep going, you'll end up lost between illusion and reality." Collins grinned proudly, impressed with his short speech. Mark just glared at him and his face turned red. He started to cry.

"I can't keep going," Mark said, "because I've already been left behind."


	2. Chapter 2

Roger knocked on Mimi's door as it opened. Mimi pulled him inside and hugged him. Over her shoulder, Roger saw new furniture and a stack of books.

"Wow, someone's redecorated!" Roger said as he looked around. He walked over to the pile of books. The top one was titled _The Psychology of Addiction_.

"Yeah, well, school takes over if you let it." Mimi spun around, looking at her entire apartment. A desk sat next to a window with a pile of notebooks and paper. A new bookshelf was in a corner, not surprisingly bare of books. But even with the new additions, there were still old rugs and chairs and the sagging couch in front of the battered television.

Roger started to flip through the book, trying not to appear as interested as he was. When he got to HIV, he gently shut the book and looked into Mimi's eyes.

"You know, I never thought I could love again after April's..." Roger trailed off, but Mimi walked right up to him. After they watched each other for a few minutes, Mimi wrapped her arms around Roger and buried her head in his green sweater. She took in the smell of Captain Crunch and Roger's acoustic guitar. Roger gently placed his chin on top of Mimi's head and held her closer as he started humming the song he wrote for her.

After a few measures, he unwrapped Mimi from his waist and took both of her hands in his. Without a word, he led her up to the roof. On the way, he picked up his guitar, the one he used to bring Mimi back. Up on the roof, he pulled up the torn green chair that had been sitting there for years. Silently, he grabbed a stool for himself and sat down. Mimi sat on the green chair and watched Roger unpack his guitar.

Roger shuffled through his papers and guitar picks, and secretly slid something into his pocket.

"Mimi, this is what we've stayed alive for. Tonight, we are immortal. AIDS or not, I love you." He started the song, keeping his eyes closed for fear of crying. He didn't see how much is impromptu speech affected Mimi. Her eyes were watering as the chords drifted from Roger's guitar.

Roger let his final notes fade out before he set down his guitar. Mimi stood up and was about to hug Roger when he knelt down on one knee.

"Mimi, I can't imagine living the rest of my life without you. You're my time is short, but I rather die with you the live forever without you. I die without you.

Will you marry me?" Roger pulled a small box out of his pocket. He opened it, revealing a simple silver ring.

"Yes, yes, forever, yes!" He whispered, meltdown, and his Roger. When he said the ringer finger, she noticed a guitar pick on it. Roger spun the ring some pic was hidden under her hand.

"I'll always be here to hold you. That pick was one I used to write your song. It was the one I was using when you came into the window. It brought me back to you." Twisting the ring so that the pick was on top of her hand, he pulled her towards him. Their bodies pressed tightly together, keeping out the winter air. And it began to snow.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey, this is a short one. Don't worry, the next one is happy. Please, if you've been reading, give a review for a first-timer. Enjoy!_

* * *

Mark sat in the kitchen with Collins. The cold metal table still had tiny dents from Angel's drumming. Collins gazed out the window, waiting for Mark to say something. After the milk incident, both of them had been completely silent.

"He was right, you know. Roger, he knew my problem. Too bad only Angel could have fixed it." Mark finally spoke, shocking Collins out of his daze. "I mean, now that Angel's gone, I can't finish my film. It's dead. Just like her. And Roger knew all along this would happen. That I'm far too dependent on others to live my life for me to create a film about life." Mark finished his short speech and stood up. Without looking at Collins, he went to his drawer and pulled out the reel of film. He brought it into the kitchen and laid it on the table. "You should have this. It's the only thing left of her. You deserve it more than I do."

"What the hell, man? Angel still lives. In here." Collins pointed to the reel of film. "Finish this thing. Now. Other people knew her, so find them. Find out her story so that we can finish it." He was running out of breath. Slowly, Collins regained his composure and put his hands on Mark's shoulders. "If anyone can do this. It's you."

"But all of the producers and TV people want more of Angel. They want to see _Angel_ more, not people talking about Angel. They say that she makes the film happier. That it's too sad without her." Mark stared at the dents in the table. He felt anger rise up in him again, but held it in. "As it turns out, everything's too sad without her."

Collins still watched Mark carefully, prepared to grab a hold of him if he got out of control again. Mark opened the window facing the street.

"I know this is hard on you, but you need to think about something. I lost the one person I ever loved. I lost her because apparently, true love has a short expiration date. Apparently, when the heart loves too much, too fast, it expires. As much as I was there for her, there was always that one thing I couldn't guarantee. I couldn't guarantee that I could protect Angel from anything. I lost her, too." Collins had tears rolling down his cheeks. His leather coat crinkled as he bent over the table.

Mark turned red. He hated when people put their losses over his, just because they were closer to one instance. He had witnessed one friend die and another barely cling to life, he lost his girlfriend to another girl, he watched silently as his best friend faded away, and waited patiently for him to return. Mark sat through it all with a camera for his eyes. Watching someone get buried wasn't the worst for Mark. The worst was watching his friends slowly drift closer to the hospital, unable to help, and unable to cope, knowing that he could be living a life, but instead chose to document those who wanted to create something to last forever. No, the worst was the solemn look in Roger's eyes every time he took his AZT, and not knowing how much longer he could fight a losing battle.

"I'm sorry Collins, but surviving all of this is worse than being killed. Watching you die a little bit every day, along with Roger and Mimi, tears me apart. I did this to give them their forever. They don't have much more time. This," Mark said, pointing to the reel, "is for the people in tents who live day to day. This is for Roger, because to him, forever is a myth."


	4. Chapter 4

"Honey, you have to wear a coat. Just because you promise not to flirt doesn't mean you can flash your new belly button ring." As much as it pained Joanne, she had let Maureen pierce her belly button. Looking at the clock, she locked her briefcase and grabbed a scarf.

"I can't wait to see Collins again, you know? It's been so long. If I wasn't with you and he wasn't gay, I would totally go after him." Maureen chuckled, but stopped when she saw Joanne roll her eyes. Smirking, she added, "Billy button rings ablaze." Before Joanne could react, Maureen rushed into the bathroom. From behind the closed door, she teased, "at least I admit it!"

Joanne stood by the door with Maureen's coat hanging off of her finger. When Maureen came out, Joanne pushed the coat into her arms playfully and whispered in her ear, "Just go easy on him, okay? He's still working through some stuff. Now let's get drunk, I hear Mark got some Christmas champagne."

They walked out of their apartment, both wearing coats. As snow built up around them, the sky darkened. By the time they got to Mark and Roger's loft, and streetlights were the only source of light.

"Mark! Keys!" Maureen shouted up to the open window. A tuft of blonde hair poked out and disappeared, shortly followed by the key falling down to them.

As they climbed the stairs, they realized the building had heat. The snow that followed them inside was melting, leaving specks of water everywhere.

"Benny has a heart. A tiny, cold one, but at least he has one." Joanne said as they knocked on Mark's door.

"Yeah, and the sense to leave seven drunk artists alone on Christmas." Maureen said as she chuckled. When the door slid open, she was faced with Marks's red, puffy eyes and Collins watching from a few feet behind.

"Hey guys. Come on in." Mark stepped to the side, revealing a bottle of champagne from behind his back. "I figured we had reason to celebrate. By the way, did you see Mimi or Roger on the way up? They've been gone for a little while."

As the crowd speculated the whereabouts of Roger and Mimi, Mark's projector sputtered to life. Collins slipped away when he noticed and slid the reel of film from the table into the projector. He sat on the table, running his fingers over the small dents, and watched his lover flicker to life once again. The quiet narration filled the room, and everyone stopped talking. After seeing the projector, they watched Collins.

"Sorry, the projector was on, so I thought I'd watch." Collins shrugged as he addressed his friends. Mark had tears in his eyes as he watched one year zoom in and out and finally go black.

Before anyone could react, the door rattled open to reveal Roger and Mimi. They were tangled in each other's arms, but Roger had still managed to push the door open. They stumbled a little as they walked inside, still giddy from their date.

"Well, look who's shown up to the party. You guys better have a good excuse." Maureen said, moving closer to the door. Joanne followed closely behind, and Collins hopped off of the table to bring over the bottle of champagne. "Wait. Something's different here. Roger never smiles this much." Both Mark and Roger laughed at Maureen's remark.

"We'll give you a hint." Mimi said as she held out her hand. Everyone gathered around and collectively gasped. "Roger wrote a new song, too. But first, Collins, pour that champagne. We need to really celebrate!" The champagne bottle was passed around, and Roger led everyone in a round of Christmas carols.

The heat stayed on, and so did the lights. Benny watched from the street below as his old friends enjoyed themselves. He let his hand linger on the master power switch, but walked away when he saw Mimi glance out the window. Her ring reflected the lights in the loft. Benny took a few steps back, and held up a hand. Mimi saw, and waved back. Benny walked away, finally accepting that Mimi and Roger had something he would never understand.


End file.
